Mine Forever
by CarrotUndASchtick
Summary: You see England sitting with 'that girl' and your blood boils with rage and jealousy. You invite him over for tea and things get ugly quick. AWFUL summary, I know. Rated for blood and the abuse of a curtain Brit. EnglandxJealous!Reader.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have no excuse xD Ok...this idea came to me from an RP me and a friend of mine had via text messages. Yeah...I know. Anyway...hope you like it! :D

* * *

His hair. It was a mess. His once beautiful, blonde hair that would make any girl want to be his, was now ruined. With what, might you ask? Blood and sweat. Why is this so? You. You had saw that girl sitting next to him. It'd made your blood boil. Why? Because he's yours. And only yours. You invited him over that evening to have tea and catch up; he couldn't say no to your pleading eyes and hopeful smile, so he agreed and had come over, as he said he would. Thankfully he hadn't brought that _girl _along with him.

...

England walked up to your doorstep, knocked on the door, and waited for exactly three seconds, which is when you answered the door.

"Hello, Arthur!" You greeted cheerfully. You used his human name because he doesn't really like it when you call him 'England' in a place where people can hear you calling him that.

"Hello, (Y/N)" He said back. He was happy to see you again. He loves you, but not in the way you love him. He loves you like a friend he'd come to after he gets beaten up or something. Ok, maybe one he'd ask to come with him to the pub to drive him home after he's had a few drinks. Yeah, that's better. Anyway, you step to the side to let him in. After doing so, he follows you into the kitchen where he helps you get the tea ready.

You both sit in the living room, sipping your tea. The TV is on, as well; the volume is down low, though*.

"Awww...I'm out of tea..." You announce, sadly. "Luckily the tea water's still a bit hot. I'll go get some more! Be right back!" you get up and go into the kitchen. England just watches whatever was on the TV*2 and continues sipping his warm drink. You set your half-full mug of tea on the counter and picked up a frying pan. You slowly walk into the living room through the dinning room, sneaking up behind the couch. You wait for him to set his own tea down and wacked him upside the head with the the kitchen utensil. England falls to the side slightly, and you look at him dreamily...he was so cute when sleeping.

You shook your head and set the frying pan down the couch cushion. You walk up to the front of the thing and pick up his small form. You wondered why he was so small, but figured it's 'cause his nation is kind of small*4. You carried him down into the basement*5 and gently set his down on the floor; don't want him waking up just yet.

You go up stairs and out the back door. You go out to your shed, grab some rope, and head back into your house. You go back down too the basement and bound his still limp arms and legs at the wrists*6 and ankles. He began to stir slightly as you finished with his ankles; the movement startled you; it startled you so much that you stood up with a squeak, darted to the couch, grabbed the frying pan, darted back, and wacked him over the head once more.

You consider how you might've hit him too hard and that the second hit was unnecessary. You also consider if hitting him affects the actual landmass of England. Well, if it does, there's gotta be some messed up stuff going on over there...you see a little blood trickling from where you've hit him...nah...you're very sure you DIDN'T hit him too hard and that the second one was VERY necessary. Also...you don't live in England so you don't really care if you just caused mass hysteria there.

Though you're sure he does.

But that doesn't matter...there's no way in Heaven or Hell you're letting him leave! He's yours! And there's no turning back now! If you DID let him go...you shake your head, not even wanting to think about it. You DO know that he'd be mad. And he might yell a bit. But...then he'd be scared. Of you. And what you'd do if you ever catch him even LOOKING at another woman. And...he might run. No, he'd DEFINITELY run. He'd run far away and he'd never look back. He'd run and run and run. He'd run until his muscles ached and begged and screamed for mercy. And he'd keep running. He'd run until he was sure you weren't following him, or he'd lost you. Only then would he stop; and after stopping he'd look for a phone to call the police with. And he'd tell them about how you knocked him out and tied him up and locked him in your basement and never planned on letting him go. And then they'd take you away. They would take you away from him! And he'd move on with his life! You're not going to let that happen!

You also wonder where I'm going with this story. I answer saying I have no idea and that you have to clean up all the ruble surrounding the remains of the forth wall when this is over. You sigh and nod your head. I continue narrating. You begin to think about what you're going to do next. You grunt in frustration and accidentally hit your head with the frying pan. You curse your brain who's name was Larry.

"DANG IT, LARRY! YOU DIDN'T THINK THIS THROUGH AT ALL!" You yell aloud. You then begin to beat your head repeatedly with the frying pan. After a while you get dizzy and fall to the floor dropping the DANGEROUS weapon.

You blink your eyes a few times and sit up. You look at England's unconscious body laying there sleeping(?) you then feel a pang of fear course through you. You pick up the frying pan, hit him upside the head once more (for good measure) and run out of the room, locking the door behind you and leaving the frying pan. You run into your bedroom, jump onto your bed, put your pillow to your face, and scream into it and roll around HRE (Holy Roman Empire) style.

You forgot to gag England so you'll most likely know when he wakes up. If you didn't put him into a coma, of course.

After about a half an hour of doing your little...I don't even know what to call it but after about a half an hour or so of doing it you stop, hearing noises coming from downstairs. You guess England woke up and you feel glad that you didn't crack his skull or anything. At least, you hope you didn't. You put your pillow down and run to the door to the basement. You stop to calm yourself down and compose yourself. After doing so you slowly and calmly open the door and casually walk down the stairs all slow and calm and casual like.

"Hello, England." You say as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You begin to walk towards him. That is, until you trip on the frying pan you left down here, of course. You fall face first onto the concrete and groan in frustration. You get up kick the frying pan into the corner and look back at England. Who was trying to hide a snicker at your clumsiness. You glare a bit but the glare soon falls from your face...England looked truly terrified and completely hurt. You didn't even think about how scared he'd be! Not to mention hurt! You were his best friend! You'd known each other for years! Oh God...what have you done!?

"(Y/N)...?" Oh God. Oh God. Oh God make it stop. You can't do this to him. You love him too much. You want to take it back! You want get on your knees and beg for forgiveness! But you can't. It's far too late.

"Yes?" You reply, trying to sound innocent.

"W-what are you doing...!?" Oh God. He sounds terrified. You can't do this! You don't want to do this!

"What ever do you mean?" You ask. You hate this. You hate how Larry didn't think this through at all! what are you supposed to do now that you have him tied up and in your basement?! Keep him in here and feed him everyday?! He isn't a pet! And why isn't he saying anything!?

You grab the Swiss Army knife Switzerland got you for your birthday*7, bend down, and put it to his throat, "It's rude to not answer when someone asks you a question, England!" you can't believe what you just did! You just put a knife to England's throat and **_threatened_ **him!

He still doesn't say anything though! You growl in frustration and put the knife to his cheek and dragged it across his face. England clench his teeth and closed his eyes tight at the sting of the blade. What are you dong _now?! _That cut will never heal all the way! I mean, it'll _heal _but the mark will stay. What was in that tea!? Alcohol?! Drugs!? You don't know. But you also don't care. You shove the knife into his arm earning a cry of pain from the poor country as blood poured from the wound. You blink a bit as an idea pops into your head.

You get up and rush up the stairs and into the kitchen. You grab a knife and run back into the basement. You walk back over to him, bend down, remove the knife, and cut the bounds on his wrists. His hand flies to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding, and failing miserably. You grab his good arm and pull it away from his wound. You step on his arm and hold it down and shove the knife right through his hurt arm and into the ground. Your very surprised. You had no idea you were so strong! Anyway, with that arm out of the way you remove your foot from the other and grab it. You shove the knife in and begin to carve something into it, with England screaming bloody murder the whole time.

After you were finished you finally took it out and admired your work, completely forgetting every regret you'd had. At first, England really didn't want to look at what you'd done to his arm, but forced himself to look; and upon seeing it, he wished he hadn't. You had carved

**MINE FOREVER****  
**

into his flesh. He just stared at it, mouth agape, and eyes wide until he finally moved his gaze from it to you. You had completely forgotten about the little war you were having with yourself and were licking all the blood off the knife and your fingers; when you stopped you looked back to him, he had pure fear and pain written all over him. "Oh, Arthur..." You used his human name "What's wrong, dear?" You asked sweetly.

"(Y/N)...w-what are y-you doing...?" He asks weakly

You bend back down and put a hand on his cheek lovingly. Only, he didn't find it lovingly; he flinched away and shut his eyes again. You don't really notice, though; you caress his cheek with your thumb and kiss his forehead; he cracks open an eye, probably wanting to know what the heck you're doing now, and is pretty surprised to have your lips pressed against his forehead like that. You pull away to see him kind of staring at you, that or just keeping an eye on you, not really trusting you. You ruffle his hair and he cringes a bit; you look at him sympathetically, now you'd done it, you'd gone and ruined every bit of trust he's ever had in you. Now he'll never even _look_ at you the same way. But that doesn't matter. He's yours and that's all that matters, right? You think so.

You stand up and walk over to where the frying pan is, not caring about how England was trying (But failing) to pry the knife out of his arm. You pick it up and walk back over to him, sitting Indian-style right next to him. "Now, England..."

"W-what!?" He yelled. You ignore it; he was in pain, after all.

"We need to discuss something..." No reply. You continue, "it's about you..." again, nothing. "First I have a question: how hard will it be too keep you here?" his brow contorts in thought and you give him a minute to reply. Nothing. "Let me re-phrase that: how hard and or long are you going to fight back?" You give him another minute to reply. He growls and replies saying:

"Are you asking if I'm going to fight back?"

"Mhmm."

"Well of course I'm going to fight back! Why the bloody hell would I **_not _**fight back! I'm not about to just give up and let you keep me in here! Speaking of which why **_are _**you keeping me here!? It's your basement!" Finally! You thought he'd never answer. Even though he gave the wrong one...anyway, you should probably answer _his _question now.

"Because you're mine now, sweetheart." You reply.

"Yours?! **_Yours?! _ **I am not a **_thing!"_** He shouted. You cringed slightly, but quickly composed yourself, "And why are you all of a sudden branding me as yours!?"

"Now _that's _a good question! It's because when I saw you sitting there with that girl it made me realize something."

"And what might that be?" He's so curious! You lean in close and whisper into his ear:

"Just how easily some girl could waltz in and steal you from me."

"_S__teal _me from you? We aren't even together, (Y/N)!"

"That doesn't matter; you're mine now, and there's nothing you or anybody else can do about that."

"I'm the United bloody Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, someone is going to notice my absence! And there's no way you can keep me in here forever!" Dang it. Why must he throw wrenches into your plan? No matter, you have a beautiful idea...

"Oh? You do have a point there...hmmm...I know what I'll do..."

"And what's that?" Your grasp on the frying pan tightened when he asked his question.

"This." You hold the frying pan above your head and then bring it down hard on his left leg, right on the knee cap, earning a huge cry of pain as the bone in it shatters. "Now you can't run away. You'll stay here forever...with me...doesn't that sound nice?" You ask sweetly.

"Y-you're i-insane!" He shouts through pained breaths. You just smile and put your hand on his cheek again. "D-don't t-touch me!" He slaps your hand away. You frown, now he's just being mean.

"Now, now, England...don't make me smash your other leg...I don't want to...but I will if I have to." you warn as you place your hand on his cheek once more. England, not wanting you to hurt him anymore, shuts up. Kind of. He's still panting, but that's perfectly fine. "Good boy~" you cooed as you pat his head with your other hand; he cringes at this. "Don't be so scared, England! I'm not going to hurt you..." _'Unless I need to.' _You finish mentally. He cracks open an eye and you can see the reason he'd had them closed was because he was holding back his tears. You wipe the tears that were brimming his eyes away with your thumb and kiss his mouth with your blood-stained lips after saying:

"You're mine. Forever."

After taking your lips from his forehead and examine him. His hair. It was a mess. His once beautiful, blonde hair that would make any girl want to be his, was now ruined. With what, might you ask? Blood and sweat. But that doesn't matter. He was yours, and that's all you cared about.

* * *

A/N: Mother of Russia that took forever! Anyway, it says 'incomplete' because, depending on how much feedback I get and how much I actually want to, I might make it a short story.

* - Fudge...that kind of rhymed xD IGNORE IT AND CONTINUE READING

*2 - The news~! 8D

*3 - Gross, lukewarm. How does he do that?

*4 - NO OFFENSE, ENGLISH PEOPLE OF THE WORLD! THE FIRST -insert Carrot's last name- ACTUALLY CAME FROM ENGLAND! Even though the name it self is Dutch xD

*5 - Yes, houses still have those -_-

*6 - Behind his back

*7 - Obviously. Who else would get you one...Prussia?! Sorry...had to xD

Now, I bid you good bye, for I have so much stuff I need to work on xD Expect chapter three for You Don't Like My Cooking? soon. I'm going to go work on it RIGHT now. Auf wiedersehen! Don't forget to be AWESOME! :D


	2. Chapter two: England's Nightmare

A/N: Hallo. Okay,I decided to make this into a short story. So...here ya go~

* * *

-England's POV-

_What's going on? Where am I? Last I remember I was in (Y/N)'s basement. I guess not. I don't know where I am. It's very bright here. Everything is a pearly white. What was that? It sounded like someone laughing. It sounded like a little kid. It sounded like America when he was a kid!__  
_

_"A-America!" I yell out._

_"England! Let's play, England!"_

_"America! Wh-where are you? America!"_

_"I'm over here, England! Hurry up so we can play!" That isn't very helpful. His voice is coming from everywhere. I just run. I don't know where I'm going, but I also don't care.  
_

_"America!" I call his name, "America!" He stopped answering. I stop dead in my tracks. I just heard a scream. "America! Where are you!? America!" My heart is racing. The person that screamed was America! I need to find him! "America!"  
_

_"England!" Finally! I can pin point his voice. It came from my left. I start running to where I heard him._

_"America!"_

_"England! Help me, England!" Oh God._

_"America!" Oh no. I stop running. Blood. The once beautifully white floor/ground is now stained with the red substance. Oh God no. God please no. "America!" I run faster. "America!"  
_

_"E-England! England! I-it hurts, England!" If my heart beats any faster it's going to explode. That's all I can think of to explain my reaction._

_"America! America, I'm coming! Hold on!_

_"E-England..." America's voice. He sounded like he was in such pain! But no matter how much I run I can't get to him! Where is he!_

_"America! Where are you!? Who hurt you!?" I stop running and start looking around frantically. Wait- what's that over there! I run over to it. Just to stop dead in my tracks once more. It's me. Well, **younger** me, I should say. I'm kneeling down next to little America. Little America is laying down. From here, all I can tell is that he has what looks like a broken leg. Ouch. But wait, that's weird. What about all that blood from earlier? What was **that **from!?  
_

_"You give up yet?" Who said that!? I turn around and I see myself. Again. But this time it's me from my pirating days. Huh. That's strange. It looks like it's when me and Spain's armadas clashed. I cringe in remembrance. Those were dark days full of killing, plundering, and backstabbing. True, at the time it was fun, but looking back, I see how much of monster I was.  
_

_"N-never! I never give up!" Spain yells in reply. Wait a minute, me and Spain fighting, America breaking his leg...these are all things from my past! I gulp, hoping these are the only things this place will dig up from my long and painful history...but I know it isn't._

_"Hey, Britain! All I want...is my freedom!" Of course. Of course this place is going to give me a paper cut and pour lemon juice on it. I slowly turn to my right to see me and America from the Revolutionary War. My breath catches in my throat. I still haven't completely gotten over all the things I did to him during the Revolutionary War. I look around some more. All around me I see painful memories replayed before my eyes. I feel like breaking down and crying. I can't take this. It's all too much. I was such a monster then! I can't believe all the things I did!  
_

_"S-stop!" I yell with tears brimming my eyes."Stop it!" I'm on the ground/floor now. My eyes shut tight and my hands clasped around my ears. I can't take this! Why is this place torturing me so!? "Stop! Make it stop!" Oh geez! What's touching me!? I open my eyes to see vines sprouting up from the ground. They start to wrap themselves around my ankles and wrists. "H-hey! Let me go!" My plea goes unanswered as they start to wrap themselves further up my legs and around my waist. Oh God...please tell me this isn't happening to me! It can't be! "Let me go!" God this hurts so much. Their grip is so strong! Now matter how hard I struggle I can't get out of it!  
_

_"England..." America!? What's he doing here!?_

_"America!" Where is he!? "America!" I hate to admit it, but I'm in trouble. And if America is here he can help me. Even though I hate needing help from others. It makes me feel so weak and useless. But...I need help...and America can help me._

_"England...I'm so sorry, England..." Huh? "I-I couldn't save you..." What now? I'm right here, you git!  
_

_"America! I'm right here! I...I need your help! America!" No response. What's going on!? Wait...something's starting to fade into my view...it's a...a tombstone? What..?  
_

_"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, England! I couldn't be the hero and save you!" I don't know how I feel about the last part of his sentence. I really don't know. America is now crying over the tombstone. I'm guessing it's mine. Which doesn't make much sense. I don't remember dying. Huh._

_"America! America, I'm right here! A-America! America, I n-need you!" I can barely breath right now. The vines have started to move to my chest. Talking is becoming a work out. "Amer- *cough* Americ- *hack*" See? I think I'll give up for now and just try to keep breathing...that sounds like a good idea...yeah...I'll do that...I feel light headed...I see black spots...is that bad...? I think it might be...my eyes...they feel heavy...I'm really tired...I think I'll go to sleep...  
_

* * *

"Gahh!" I wake up, panting. I look around, I'm in (Y/N)'s basement. It...it was just a bad dream...well, if I just woke up from that bad dream...why can't I wake up from this one? I nurse my bad leg; it hurts like crazy. I close my eyes in pain and remove my hand, giving up, then sigh and lay down on my back and examine my arm. The one she'd carved on. I feel like crying. How could she do this to me? I thought she was my best friend...I- I don't know what to think of her anymore...she scares me now- what was that? I think I heard a door open. okay, I definitely heard a door open because now I hear someone coming down the stairs. Oh no...she's coming!

"Hello, England."

"H-hello, (Y/N)" God I'm so weak.

"Did you sleep well?" No.

"Y-yes."

"Good."

"Y-yeah..."

"Is something wrong, dear?" Yes.

"Wh-what? No."

"Are you sure?" She bends down and puts a hand on my cheek. Again. I cringe slightly. Again.

"Y-yes. I'm sure."

"Okay, then. Are you hungry? I brought you some food." Mother of God. I'm not hungry. I'm starving! I wonder what she brought me? She puts a plate of, you guessed it, fish and chips with a cup of tea in my face. Mother of God. It looks so good. My mouth would water, if I had any water inside of me. I slowly take the plate and cup and set it down. And then she puts a bottle of water next to the plate. I look back up at her. "Can't live on tea. Your body needs water, too." I all of a sudden love her. Just a bit.

"Th-thank you." I reply and look down a bit. She lifts my head up with her hand, kisses my forehead, and leaves saying:

"You're welcome, dear. I'll come visit you later, okay?"

"O-okay..." She starts up the stairs and I try the fish and chips. It's very delicious.

* * *

-America's POV-

"hey, Iggy!" I yell out as I enter England's house. I picked out an awesome new scary video game called 'Amnesia: The Dark Decent' and I'm totally gonna make him play it with me. "Iggy?" where is he? "Iggy?" I call out as I search his house.

I turn the house upside down and I can't find him anywhere! Where is he!?

"England? You here, bro?" I know!

* * *

-France's POV-

I hear my phone ring, when I check it, it's America. I wonder why he's calling me...

"Oui? Amérique?"

"France! Dude, I can't find Iggy anywhere! When was the last time you saw him?"

"Angleterre? I haven't seen him since...last Tuesday. Why do you need him?"

"I got this new game and I was gonna force him to play it with me!" My face. And my palm. He just made it happen. Of course he got some horror game and wanted England to play with him!

"Oh really? Well...maybe he's just visiting one of his other relatives...like Scotland or Whales or Canada or-"

"Canada?"

"Your brother."

"OH! B-but he promised to play it with me when I called!" though something tells me it went like 'Hey Britain, I got a new game, do you wanna play it with me?' then Britain answered with, 'Get bent you bloody wanker, I have more important things to do than play some childish game with you!' and America said, 'Rock out, I'll be there in a few days.' I have a feeling it will end with England playing the game and America watching with 'Mr. Pillow'

"Oui, but Angleterre is very busy. You should probably just wait for him to get done with whatever it is he's doing and **_then_** play with him."

"Wait a minute-" And he hung up.

I put my phone down and go back to what I was doing. Exactly five minutes later I get **_another_ **call from America.

"What is it, Amérique?" I asked in an irritated tone.

"I just called Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Canada, and even Spain. They say they haven't seen him." Wow. He called them?

"I see. Well, what do you want me to do about it? I can't just **_make_** him appear."

"I want you to help me find him!" Of course. I sigh and answer.

"Okay...okay, I help find him."

"Yes! Thanks, bro! Come to my house and we'll make up a plan!"

"Okay."

"Sweet!" And he hangs up again. I better get going before he gets upset.

* * *

A/N: I did it! Yay~ Okay, this was kind of hard, but I'm awesome so it's whatever. I hope you enjoyed! Good bye! :D Don't forget to be AWESOME!


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